


Gulp

by wings128



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Handcuffs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wings128/pseuds/wings128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cam loses his pants and John comes to his rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gulp

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge - "Oral Sex"
> 
>  **Prompt:** The Twinkie Scene in SG-1 s10e8 – “Momento Mori” 
> 
> [](http://s1343.photobucket.com/user/Wings128/media/Cam/vlcsnap-2012-11-13-20h57m55s184-Copy_zpse31e7b97.png.html) [](http://s1343.photobucket.com/user/Wings128/media/Cam/tumblr_m67ac4ola41qgvv96o1_1280-Copy_zpsd853c591.png.html)

Cam had given up on Vala returning and letting him loose, when the cheap motel room door flew inwards, bright sunshine silhouetting his four rescuers. ‘Four?’

His heart hammered in his chest, less concerned with his naked and handcuffed state than with who the fourth could be.

“Right,” Sam said, her mouth failing to hide her amusement, “we’ll track Vala, Colonel, you help Mitchell find his pants.”

Jackson made a comment Cam was relieved he couldn’t hear as the archaeologist turned and followed Sam and Teal’c, leaving John standing in a halo of midday light.

“Carter dialled in.” 

John’s voice was harsh, choked with the worry, the anger, he’d obviously been carrying close since he’d crossed the void between their two galaxies to join the search.

“I should get kidnapped by a member of my own team more often.” Cam joked, anticipation and longing replacing humour; his eyes never leaving John’s.

“I’m okay,” Cam hissed through sugar-powdered lips as he jostled his bad arm in an effort to reassure a suddenly motionless John, “just cuffed, and fightin’ a sugar high is all.”

John lunged forward, weapon-calloused hands gentle as they checked Cam’s wound for themselves.

“A flesh wound, I’m _okay_ , promise.” Cam looked up into intense green-rimmed eyes, wide with the fear John wouldn’t – couldn’t voice.

“Wanna cut me loose?” Cam grinned, rattling the standard issue metal against the turned wood of the headboard. “Fingers are kinda numb.”

“Really? I’m liking this look.” John teased, his expression shifting from furious worry to one of heated arousal as he stripped; ravenous gaze raking over Cam’s bare chest. “Thought I’d join you. Y’know, since I’m here.”

John was down to just his black tee and loosely-laced boots, cock jutting hard and eager beneath a worn cotton hem. Cam swallowed hard around the memory of the Twinkie Vala had shoved in his mouth earlier. He’d gagged on its width, thrust up his hips, and moaned; had wished it was John filling his mouth, taste more bitter than artificial sweet, as Cam’s lips stretched tight around hard driving heat.

“Hell yeah.” A dry whisper; barely audible and instantly forgotten in the dip and shift of John climbing over him. The loud rustle and slide of candy wrappers under John’s knees as he straddled Cam, pressed a splayed hand against the wall while the other guided that sweet, beautiful cock to Cam’s starved mouth.

“Jesus, fuck Cam,” John cursed, breathless at the feel of wet rippling heat as he pushed past Cam’s soft lips, “your mouth!”

Cam looked wide-eyed up at the lover he hadn’t seen for more than a year, hadn’t expected to see for five months more, and hollowed his cheeks, sucked till precome coated his tongue; groaned and felt his own hips drive helplessly up.

“Want me to fuck your mouth.” John growled, squeezing Cam’s ribs and shoulder with his thighs as he rose for a better thrust, no longer resting on his boots. 

“Missed this, missed your mouth; your fucking perfect mouth!” John punctuated each word with a thrust that pushed his cock deep; over the talented flutterings of Cam’s tongue and past the gag reflex Cam had long since conquered.

He watched the blue-eyed man beneath him take every inch John fed him. His balls, tender on rough stubble, sparked pleasure low in his spine with each grind in; Cam’s soft lips pressed over dangerous teeth. 

Cuffed in place, bad arm pinned to his side, and unable to speak with John’s cock stuffed in his mouth, Cam was blissing out. His body arching with the need to come; pinned by the weight of John over him. Fuck, he’d needed this. He wanted John to come; come down his throat, leave his brand where Cam could taste it on every swallow, in meetings, on missions, alone in his bed with John millions of miles away. With every breath Cam wanted to taste the physical reminder of this man. The man whose thrusts had lost their rhythm, who was groaning, fingers tugging tight in Cam’s short hair; so close.

They kept eye contact, Cam watched John’s eyes grow impossibly dark and widen; felt his own mirror the reflex as his body twisted and arched. The sole of John’s boot forcing a hiss through Cam’s nose, the pain amping his need.

A growl, needy and rough, was all the warning Cam got before hot bitterness painted his throat; seared his flexing muscles as he swallowed, hungry for all that John could give him. Cam came untouched, arched helplessly up into nothing but the thin motel comforter; the thrill of being pinned by his lover enough to push him over the edge. Tension bled out through his cock, muscles slack and liquid, his abs twitching with the suddenness of it all.

“Fuck, Cam,” John cursed, breathless in the shocked wonder of long-denied orgasm, shuddered as he pulled free with a juicy pop; spit and come a hot mess over swollen lips he just had to touch.

“Y’miss me, baby?” Cam croaked, voice wrecked as he chased and licked the pads of John’s teasing fingers.

“Mmmm,” John smirked, pressed his hand against the wall for balance, and unfolded his long lean body to lie over Cam. “Just a bit.” He murmured, mouth brushing Cam’s before suckling fuck-swollen lips, tasting himself on his fellow Colonel’s playful tongue.

Cam was eager and rough in his bid for control of their kiss, fingers tangled in wild black hair as John ground down, searched out Cam with his hips; satisfaction bubbling up when his lover arched, grinding, frustrated by the bedding trapping his legs.

“Easy,” he soothed, palm sliding up the inside of Cam’s cuffed arm as he ground his hips back down, spent cock twitching against its mate. “You need two hands to fuck this sweet ass.”

Cam grunted, fresh heat and want flooding through him at John’s taunt, and he rolled his hips, shoved close and needy.

“Easy, I got you,” John soothed, breath hot against the shell of Cam’s ear, “Where’d Vala leave the key?”


End file.
